


Legend.

by soriksorik



Category: Outlaw King (2018)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Family, Fear, Fluff, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Love, incertainty, reunited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 09:36:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17077853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soriksorik/pseuds/soriksorik
Summary: Robert shares his fears with Elizabeth upon being reunited with her.





	Legend.

**Author's Note:**

> This is set after the events of Outlaw King, post beach-scene.

His head rested on her chest, her fingers slipping through his tousled locks as she massaged his scalp.

Robert was sleeping soundly, his arms wrapped around her frame. She wondered when was the last time he had slept like that, without a worry in the world clouding his mind enough to keep him up. Perhaps when he was the child and all the horror of the world did not weight so heavy? Or maybe in the arms of his first wife…?

No, Elizabeth would not think about her now. Not when she finally had her husband in her embrace. No thoughts of him and another woman would cloud her judgment when she could finally just bask in his warm embrace and his scent that, in the short while of their marriage before the untimely separation, had become the only scent she accepted as home.

He was different now… older, almost. He held fresh scars, and they weren’t physical as much as they were emotional. Watching his friends and family fall before him, the uncertainty whether either Marjorie or her were alive had worn him out over the course of their separation, and she had noticed it in the way he had kissed her on the beach. She had tasted pain, fear, longing, and relief all at the same time. She had tasted heartbreak and uncertainty, love and hatred, peace and untamed rage. She had tasted his internal turmoil and she had let it seep into her so that they could carry the burden together.

Elizabeth had endured the horrors of war on her own end of it, but she could only imagine what he had seen, what monsters clouded his mind.

Robert stirred and Elizabeth halted her ministrations, tilting her head to press a kiss to the top his scalp instead. She cooed for him to calm, reassuring him that she was there and no one was taking her from him. Not again.

However, despite her best efforts, he groaned and carefully freed himself from her grasp, turning over to lay next to her.

Elizabeth shifted, coming to prop herself up on her elbow so that she could gaze at him. His eyes were closed, but she knew he wasn’t sleeping. The unsteady rise and fall of his chest gave him away, and the smile that slowly found its way to his lips.

“You’re staring…” he muttered, husky voice and thick Scottish accent cutting the silence of the night.

“Am not…” was her response, easy and melodic, as her own lips ended up curling into a smile.

Lazily, he allowed one of his eyes to open, moving to meet her gaze. A toothy grin came over his lips then and he moved, quicker than she had expected, pulling her forward and against him, his mouth finding hers and drowning out her laughter.

When he pulled back, coming up for air, Elizabeth found herself on her back with her husband hovering over her, his hands placed strategically on her hips. His bright blue eyes were piercing through her, looking past her into whatever it was that he could see. They weren’t focused on her, and she knew it because the look in his eyes was of a man who had just seen a ghost, and not of a man gazing at his beloved wife that he sadly had been separated from for entirely too long.

Her hand found his cheek and she ran her thumb over his cheekbone, caressing it gently, “Robert… look at me.”

He blinked, gaze moving to run over her features, “I am looking at you.”

“Yes,” she whispered, “now you are.”

There was a moment of silence in which he decided that perhaps it was best not to lie to her about it. He knew that Elizabeth was no fool and she would know whether he was looking at her or not, no matter what he said.

Elizabeth shifted, moving to sit up. Robert, noticing her actions, shifted too. The lovers now sat on the bed, face to face, with a hoard of unanswered questions hanging in the air between them.

“What were you thinking?” She murmured, tucking the loose strands of her hair behind her ears, pushing them out of her face.

Robert sighed, looking away from her, but she saw a flash of something in his features before he did, and whatever that something was, she did not like it.

Reaching out, she gently turned his head to face her again. The look was gone as quickly as it had come, but there was a small remnant of it in his gaze, and that is what she was going to grasp onto.

He tilted his head, kissing her palm as he did, his own hand coming to rest over hers on his cheek before he guided it away from his face and into his lap, coming to grasp it with both hands.

“Robert--”

“What if I had been too late?”

His words cut her off, and the despair in his tone caught her off guard. Elizabeth had not expected that.

“But you weren’t…”

“And what if, Elizabeth. What if when I had finally returned you were dead and Marjorie--”

“Robert, no.” She freed her hand from his grasp, cutting him off, to cup his face between both of her hands. “Do not think of it… don’t torture yourself with ‘what ifs’ when there is no reason to do that now. Everything turned out well and both Marjorie and I are alive.”

“But it could have happened and I could have lost the two most important women in my life. I have already lost so many people I care for. Fallen, before my eyes, and I couldn’t do anything to help them.”

It was peculiar, to see such a strong man succumb to his internal fear and turmoil. Most people would frown at him. How could someone with so much fear within him be trusted to lead a nation to greatness? Fear was a weakness for most, much like compassion, but Elizabeth did not see it as a weakness. To her, it made him so much stronger. She realized now what it cost him to put on a brave face for everyone, and more so now that he was King. He could not have the people see his fear in order to keep their mind at peace, and although he hid it well, Elizabeth saw now that the uncertainty of it all ate away at him, poisoning him from the inside.

Inhaling a deep breath, she leaned in, pressing her lips against his forehead, “we are with you, Robert, Marjorie and I, and we shall never be taken from you. You and I shall rule for the people of Scotland, and we shall defend them from the English, and when the time comes, we shall die in this very bed, old and grey, and surrounded by our children and our grandchildren.”

His hands came up to cup her face, and Elizabeth watched a smile creep to his lips, “I am yours…”

“And I yours. Truly.” She whispered, allowing a smile to paint itself across her lips, “and you and I shall make history together. We shall be a legend.”


End file.
